What Could've Been
by rebanana
Summary: Response to 3x12 promo. What happened with Addison and Mark. Why did she decide not to keep the baby? Why did he stay silent about it for this long? Very angsty. Maddison darkfic.
1. One Slip

_**Warning:** If you have not seen Episode 3x11 and the previews for 3x12, please do not read this, it contains information revealed in those two episodes.  
Note: This is extra short. It's going to be a series of ficlets, but I wanted to share this with you guys and see if you liked it._

She had always done everything she was supposed to. She had always been good at taking everything she was supposed to. She barely thought about it while she was popping the pill or buying contraception. It barely registered in her mind. Just routine. She was good at routine.

Then there was one day where she was utterly thrown off. She remembered something; or rather she had forgotten something. She lay awake in bed, Mark next to her, snoring roughly. The snoring made her heart beat just a little bit faster. Scenarios of what ifs filled her troubled mind. It was one slip. Tentatively, she slipped her hand under the covers and touched her stomach. Mark rolled over in his sleep. Ignorance _was_ bliss.

One second, one moment. Life would be changed. She breathed. Tried to fall asleep. Her heart was beating too hard. She rolled out of bed, especially careful not to wake Mark up.

The bathroom floor was cold against her bare feet. One look in the mirror revealed an anxious face, red eyes complete with tears. How could she have been so _stupid_? She was Addison Montgomery-Shepherd. She couldn't afford to make _mistakes_. And yet she had. A mistake that was all too familiar to her. She saw it every day in the young girls who sat before her, fearful. She, who chided those girls; an utter hypocrite. Trying to calm herself, she huddled over the sink and splashed water on her face. It wasn't going to happen. She wasn't. She _couldn't_ be. Not with Mark. Did she love Mark? She didn't know. She didn't know anything. Looking at herself in the mirror, she stepped back and decided… No, she definitely wasn't.

The next day she was on her knees in front of the toilet. Sick.


	2. History Often Repeats Itself

**Guys I know this is a super touchy subject, both politically and emotionally. So I tried to do it the best I could. Read it with warning and if you're going to criticize it please don't attack it :-0**

**(Also… I'm still not quite sure if Addison had an abortion or if she had a miscarriage. To tell you the truth, (despite this story) I really hope she had a miscarriage (that sounds awful, excuse that), although that's not what the dialogue sounds like) **

Most people knew her as Dr. Addison Shepherd, foremost neonatal surgeon in the country. The title alone gave her all the respect she needed and more. Not that she minded. Funny, how the title could transform her into a totally different person. She wasn't using it here, she was just Addison, a woman who had made a mistake.

The waiting room's whitewashed walls seemed to glow. She could hardly look at them, so she stared at the ground instead. She watched the rug until the red and blue dots seemed to mesh together and make purple. She felt nauseous.

She heard her name being called. It sounded raw on the tongue of the nurse in front of her. She wondered if anyone here knew who she was. She hoped they didn't. "Addison Montgomery?" The nurse asked a little louder.

She felt herself get up. She was really going through with this. Oh god, she was going to go through with this. The nurse greeted her seriously and led her into another white room. She tried to tell herself that she was used to it. She had performed this exact procedure numerous times. The only difference was now she would be the patient. No problem.

She quickly changed into a hospital gown, the material resting awkwardly on her shivering skin. She lay on the table. Put her legs in the stirrups. Tried not to think about the reason she was here.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she let her world fall into blackness. She didn't want a baby with Mark. She wasn't ready. She was still _with_ Derek. Without opening her eyes, she felt around for her wedding ring. She fingered the smooth gold band. Not once had she taken it off.

She heard the rumbling of the machine. The science of it all flew from her brain. Fear and panic took over her body. Be numb. _Numb_.

Her eyes were still clamped shut. She fought against all her natural instincts. She didn't scream. She lay still. Mark was an asshole. A complete and total asshole. He told her he loved her and cheated on her. And she slept with him _again_ despite this information. She convinced herself he really did love her. Just like with Derek. Of course. History often repeated itself.

No baby deserved to live this awful life. But no baby deserved to die either. She took a breath as the rumbling got louder and louder. The doctor's voice told her to relax. She was sobbing, her breathing quiet and uneven.

When she felt _it_ all she could think were the words _I'm so sorry_ over and over. The pain was evident. Both emotionally and physically.

**To Be Continued…**


	3. The Aftermath

The aftermath. She read countless stories and treated countless patients… They all told her the same thing: It's painful. You'll hate yourself after it. It's the worst kind of self-loathing you can possibly feel. She believed them. But she didn't know. Because believing was very different from knowing.

She took the subway home. Riding the subway wasn't her favorite, but if she used the car, Mark would notice. So she road the subway. She kept her head down the whole ride home in the irrational fear that somebody would notice. Or care. She didn't want anyone to care. She didn't deserve their care.

Then again, it was the subway, so almost no one cared or noticed in the first place. She got out at her stop. She walked briskly with her head up high. She would _not_ let the pain affect her until she got home.

The duration of the twenty-minute walk between the subway and home seemed to go on forever. She refused to let any thought enter her head. She was numb.

The brownstone was empty. Thank god. Mark had some business to attend to. It was why she chose today to be _the day_. She broke down the minute she got in. Her sobs seemed to echo across the vast hallways. She made her way upstairs. Collapsed on the bed.

The emptiness scared her like nothing else.

The bed. The bed where everything happened. _Everything_. From the beginning of this whole mess. She stood up and tore away all the expensive Egyptian sheets from the bed. She needed to clean.

She _hated_ cleaning. Yet now she was methodically, and somehow frantically cleaning. Cleaning and sobbing. What had she turned into? Her stomach cramped. She stopped cleaning. She let herself fall to the floor. "Fuck!" She screamed. No one was there to hear her.

She knew exactly what she was supposed to do after the procedure, but she couldn't bring herself to rest. She didn't deserve rest. She was dirty, and awful, and mostly a mess. She wondered what would happen if her colleagues could see her now. She figured they wouldn't respect her anymore. It wasn't a big deal. She didn't respect herself anymore.

When she got into the shower, she really started mourning. She mourned for her loss… What never was. What never would be. What would always haunt her. And she cried. She had never cried so hard in her life.

Usually the steam helped her calm down. Now it just made her angry. She was trying to rid herself of the dirtiness that she deserved. She took another breath. She scrubbed her bare skin until it was raw.

After her shower, she lay in the guest bed, curled up into a little ball. The guest bedroom would've been a nursery. She imagined the crib. The soft pastels on the walls. The numerous toys.

She could imagine the inhabitant of the room. Small. Innocent. Loved.

She was disgusted.


	4. Oh, The Irony

It was kind of ironic, actually. She was an OB/GYN. So of course she'd have to deal with babies. Some people, after _it_… They couldn't look at babies properly for weeks without crying. And yet she had to _hold_ them. They were _sick_.

Somehow she managed not to cry.

For two weeks.

Of course it got hard to keep it all in. Especially today. She watched as a woman delivered a stillborn. She watched helplessly, because there was no longer anything she could possibly do. She stood by the woman's side feeling like a traitor. Life was not fair by any means. The woman's sobbing was too much for her. Overcome with emotion, she left the cleaning up to the nurses and her interns. She fled to an empty on-call room.

Addison Montgomery-Shepherd needed a moment.

Or two.

She realized that her mascara was running. There was no way she could hide the way she felt anymore. She prayed that nobody would come in. Few people had ever seen her as restless and angry as she was now… And those few people were the ones she had hurt. Or the ones she would hurt. It was all the same to her now.

It didn't help that Mark was catching on. She refused to as much as touch him. She was distant. He was concerned.

Her pager rang. She brushed the tears out of her eyes, and reapplied her mascara as best she could. She stood up and walked through the hallways as though everything was just perfect.

The woman's husband was waiting in the hallway. He looked grief stricken. "I-I can't get through to her. Please- please, will you try?"

She felt her insides twist. It wasn't professional. She didn't know what to do.

It was irony that caused Mark Sloan to be watching her at that exact moment. He stood at the nurses' desk. He stared at her intently. Mark Sloan was never one to hide.

She turned away from Mark, faced the man in front of her, "Mr. Garred," She started. Her hands shook. Be professional. "I… I think right now you need to be by her side." Deep breath. "She may not want to talk to you right now, because there are so many things she must be feeling, but just stand by her and hold her hand. Be there for her."

She felt Mark's stare on her back. Everyone knew. They must. Could they see it? Did they look at her and just _know_? Mr. Garred stared at the floor. "Right." He looked at the door to his wife's room.

Taking another breath, she forced a smile. The tears were surging to her eyes, "She needs you, and I know she does. She doesn't need me. She needs you."

Mr. Garred looked up at Addison, "You're right. Thank you Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd."

She winced at the name Shepherd. She winced again because Mr. Garred thought she was helping. God was she selfish. She placed her hand on Mr. Garred's shoulder. "I will be here." She was beginning to choke.

Mr. Garred gave her a sincere saddened smile, "Once again, thank you. For everything." He looked at her again before opening the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." She nodded vehemently, almost crying. Why did Mr. Garred of all people have to care? "Page me if you need anything." With a nod, he disappeared to comfort his ailing wife.

Mark was behind her in a flash. "Addison?" He asked in a soft voice.

"What?" Her voice came out angry, harsher than usual.

He ignored her tone and placed two fingers gently on her cheek. "You're not okay." He took his fingers away from her face and stared at them. They were wet.

"Mark, not in the hospital." She said and began to turn away. "I'm fine."

"Why were you crying?"

She shook her head, "Everyone is staring at us." She swiped a hand over her eye to catch the rest of her tears and made sure she stood taller. Everything was okay. Mark didn't have a clue. Right?

"Then we'll go to an on-call room." He shrugged looking at several of the interns, "For a consult."

It was ironic that the room that he led her to now was the same room she had been sobbing in several moments earlier.

He sat next to her. "Addison." His voice was gentle and gruff at the same time. She loved him.

"What?" She asked, avoiding his intense stare. Instead, she chose to look out the window.

He laced his fingers with hers. "You're not okay." He paused, only letting go of her hand to wipe another tear from her cheek. This gentle gesture made her even more ashamed. "I need to know why you're not okay."

She shook her head. Images of the cold table flashed into her mind. What would he think if she told him? He wasn't the bad guy here, she was. She wiped her nose and forced herself to look at him. "It's nothing, Mark."

He looked away. "You can stop this."

Her heart sunk. "What?"

"I know."

Knowledge. It was a powerful thing. She furrowed her eyebrow, tried to look confused. "Know what?" She asked, and smoothed her lab coat.

"That you were pregnant." His voice was smooth and hard all at the same time. It made her nervous. She felt like crying, but she stayed in control. Always stay in control. Her mantra. Silently she looked down at the ground, turned her wedding band over on her finger. Mark hated that she still wore it. "You have to talk." His voice was harder now.

The dizziness never wore off and it made her feel sick. Was she ever going to stop feeling sick? She took the practical approach, "I was."

"And now you're not." He said. The physical distance between them left her feeling cold and alone. She was an awful person.

"How'd you find out?" Her voice was still steady. He never broke his gaze. "How long have you known?"

"You underestimate me always, Addison." He gave a rough laugh. "I'm quite perceptive." She shivered under his stare. "There are ways to find out. I happened to get a phone call. Nice lady your doctor was. Didn't seem to realize you were a renowned obstetrician. Had to give instructions. She seemed to be under the impression that you didn't know what you were doing. Imagine that." Mark commented dryly. "Addison Montgomery-_Shepherd _not knowing what she was doing."

The tears were running full stream. She couldn't seem to stop shaking. "I-I can't." She let herself go. She cried so hard that she shook the both of them. "I-I just can't do this."

He stopped glaring at her. The distance was gone. For now. She sought comfort in his arms. "Shhh," He whispered, his mouth against her ear. "Don't cry." It was somewhat ironic, or maybe not. She couldn't decide. He shifted, "I should've been there. I should've been there even if you didn't want me."

She wanted to scream out that she needed him. That she needed him every step of the way. But she was a terrible person, so she stayed silent. By no means did she deserve him. He was angry, and yet he still held her in his arms. She couldn't take it. "I-I have to go." She said and stood up, immediately thinking of Richard's phone call. The best thing for her now was to leave. She couldn't look at him anymore. Couldn't face herself.

He knew what she meant. "No."

She had to leave New York. "One day I'll tell you."

"Addison don't do this." He stood up. He wasn't much taller than her, but right now he seemed to tower over her. "It's not fair."

She nodded. "I know."

She wrestled herself away from his grip and stared at him one more time. Then she left New York.

Something had changed in their relationship. She loved him. He loved her. But it didn't come down to that any more. It was just a game of pretending. A game of denial.

The next time he saw her they didn't talk about it. It was there, but it wasn't. That's how it always would be to both of them. Haunting.


End file.
